


No Match for Him

by Anam_Writes



Series: Anam's Commission Library [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Flayn gives good pep talks, Fluff, Married Couple, Post-Canon, Post-Time Skip, silver snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:00:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25843210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anam_Writes/pseuds/Anam_Writes
Summary: Byleth wonders if there is any way he could live up to Rhea's legacy. Flayn knows her husband can rise above it....He wanted to be that for his people, he thought. He wanted to make them feel loved and safe, as Flayn did for him.He told her as much as he poured a sweet apple blend into her cup."I am glad you feel so," Flayn smiled at him. "But you must know, you do not need to offer me tea for my advice. We're married, after all; my help is free."Byleth knew. It was a comfort he was reminded of without end when she took his hand and kept him grounded at meetings and banquets. All the same, he could not help but want to tease, if only a little."Ah," Byleth finished pouring her tea and took the saucer in hand, keeping it just out of reach. "You don't want the tea.""No!" she squeaked. "That is not what I meant."
Relationships: Flayn/My Unit | Byleth
Series: Anam's Commission Library [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1875259
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	No Match for Him

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ILoveFlayn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ILoveFlayn/gifts).



Byleth was not so skilled at this as his predecessor; that much was obvious from the first time he’d attempted a public appearance. He had tried to smile - truly, he did - but little but a baring of teeth occurred. When he was passed the infant child of a village woman the little thing began to wail, inconsolably so. Seteth had little recourse but to carefully lift the babe from the Archbishop’s arms to coo at and console them himself as Byleth made his blessings. It was hardly an auspicious sign that the first outing of Byleth as a leader of both administrative and spiritual significance was marred by screaming children and strained parents. 

“It was the heat,” Seteth assured him. “Nothing fusses a child quite like the full force of the sun on a summer’s day. Next time we will put up a pavilion, provide more shade. It will help.”

Byleth doubted this very much. He doubted it more when he realized his hand had gravitated to clinging at the leather strapped hilt of a blunt sword: not for a threat but for comfort, how a child might cling to a blanket. He was sure Rhea had never sought a blade to soothe her nerves after the great undertaking of holding a few dozen children, one after the other. She had loved this position, crafted it to her greatest strengths, and held Fódlan together for centuries through it. Byleth had known nothing but roads and steel and silence for so very long. 

When the image of Rhea - a shining, unreachable beacon in the distance - felt too much, Byleth found solace in looking just to his right, to Flayn, his wife. Her grace, her compassion, her will was much like Rhea’s, like Sothis’ even: boundless, ethereal, sewn so naturally into her being it could not be parted from her image for fear of making patchwork of her. But Flayn, for all her similarities, felt much different. It was not a weight he bore to watch her conduct herself, to conform to her role with such ease as though she'd been born for it. She felt infinitely more approachable, achievable, like home. 

He wanted to be that for his people, he thought. He wanted to make them feel loved and safe, as Flayn did for him. 

He told her as much as he poured a sweet apple blend into her cup. 

"I am glad you feel so," Flayn smiled at him. "But you must know, you do not need to offer me tea for my advice. We're married, after all; my help is free."

Byleth knew. It was a comfort he was reminded of without end when she took his hand and kept him grounded at meetings and banquets. All the same, he could not help but want to tease, if only a little. 

"Ah," Byleth finished pouring her tea and took the saucer in hand, keeping it just out of reach. "You don't want the tea."

"No!" she squeaked. "That is not what I meant."

The corner of his lip turned up but he made no move to give the cup back yet. 

"Come now, dearest," she laughed and blushed. "You know my meaning like you know my heart."

A flush prickled his cheeks and he lowered the saucer and cup to the table, setting them once more before Flayn for her enjoyment. Oh, how she did intend to enjoy it. 

Byleth watched her breathe in deeply, wafting the scent, as he moved to his seat across the table. She waited until his own cup was poured to take her first sip with a hum and a sigh. 

"Delicious, as always," she complimented. 

Byleth gave her a nod, watching over the rim of his cup as his wife seemed to contemplate further, what he had said. 

"You say I might teach you how to better fill your role," she said. "I must admit, I wonder why. It is lovely, of course, to hear I provide you with such security, but I wonder what that has to do with this. I have little experience in command."

Byleth frowned, letting the sweet apple tang sit a while longer on his tongue before speaking. "They say Rhea was...maternal. I'm not."

It is Flayn's turn to blush again, it would seem. She presses one hand to her cheek, trying to quell the heat there. "And you think I am."

"I do," Byleth said. It seemed so obvious to him. "You'll make a wonderful mother one day and for now you nurture the people. You're very good at it."

"I…" There was a moment she nearly stammered. Flayn collected herself with a flutter of her eyes. "And you will be, as well," she said. "A father, I mean."

That which believed her, no matter the word, came rushing into conflict with all inside him that doubted. It swelled in his chest even as he tried to keep it from his eyes. 

"Maybe," he said. "But I am not suitable for the people. I need to learn to make them feel as Rhea did. And you - "

Flayn frowned and took another sip of her tea. 

Byleth rolled about the thought in his mind, trying to find how best to express this. 

"I am just no match for Rhea."

Porcelain clattered as Flayn brought her tea cup down in a less than dainty gesture. Her brow creased slightly. Byleth would never tell her, but her anger softened him, looking much more like a pout than anything truly seething. 

"And who ever said you must be a match to Rhea?" She asked. "Point me to them; I only ask a word with them."

Byleth shook his head and looked back down to his tea. Flayn would have none of it. 

"I mean this," she said. "You say you feel safe and loved with me, do you not? Well, I feel the same about you. Ever since you came to save me from the Death Knight - from his awful dungeons - I have known myself to be safe with you and I have known what it is to love another beyond simple friendship."

Byleth opened his mouth to speak but Flayn rose first to her feet. The white silk gown she wore trailed behind her as she rounded the table and placed a hand on Byleth's cheek. 

"You, who defeated the Empire, the Agarthans, who protects from any threat that slithers in the dark," she said. "Who won the loyalty of your students, the trust of every Nabatean left - even my own, scared father - and who stands guard for Fódlan and her people; you have nothing you must be a match to."

Flayn leaned down. Byleth could feel the gentle press of her lips to his forehead before she gave her last piece of advice. 

"Show them the man who defends me, who protects and loves me," she said. "Fódlan decided long ago that it did not need Rhea; it needs you."

Byleth raised his head, looked into her eyes, wide and hopeful. That within him that had every faith in her words won to his doubt. He kissed her with all the tenderness he could muster, with all the strength he held for her benefit. Soft lips and a sweet apple blend passed through the quiet of the night and he had all her faith in him stored in his chest come morning. 

When next he went among the people, Seteth raised a pavilion for shade, as promised. Flayn sat by his side. When the first child of the day was brought to him for a blessing, he stripped a glove from his hand. He did not take the baby but, instead, rested his palm over the child's forehead. 

"I will guard the nights when you rest and the days when you grow," he said. "You will be protected all your life, this I swear by the Goddess."

The child did not cry. The mother gave her thanks. 

Flayn, from her seat, reached out for his bare hand as it fell and pressed a quick kiss to his knuckles. 

She was right.

Of course, he smiled to himself. Wasn't she always?


End file.
